Coffee
by CaptainKase
Summary: Mustang was suddenly dumbfounded. He was cradling a crying, coffee sodden Riza Hawkeye in his arms. Would wonders never cease?


This is my first fanfic...ever...

EVER.

Someone asked me to write them something fluffy and RoyxRiza...so I did...and I liked it. - So, if you like this fic, expect more from me in the future.

Oh yeah, I don't normally write fluff. This is a once in a lifetime thing. (Unless someone asks for it again). Reviews would be appreciated.

* * *

It was a little known fact that Riza Hawkeye had a soft spot for coffee. It wasn't the caffeine boost that she admired, really. That was what everyone else seemed to drink it for. No, Riza liked the taste. She enjoyed the way that the scalding, bitter liquid trickled down her throat, leaving the smallest trace of froth behind on her lips for her to lick clean before swallowing the next delicious mouthful. And she couldn't help but think that the interesting aroma reminded her of something...something pleasant, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

She had never told anyone before, that she would take this moment to herself in the morning. She was sure that all of the men in the office would snicker at the thought of _Riza_, contemplating over a hot mug of coffee. She was actually afraid to admit it really, because for her, it was a moment of weakness. It was a moment that her right hand was not constantly tensed over her pistol–a moment that her face finally relaxed from its usual no nonsense expression. In the military, a moment of weakness means certain death. That simply wasn't acceptable, Riza would think, so long as she had someone that she needed to protect.

And so, when in the office she turned down mugs of the steaming substance with a watering mouth, insisting that the flavor was too _chalky_ for her liking, or that it would most certainly burn her tongue. However, she knew that some day, she would lose all willpower in her possession and her little secret would be revealed to the world–but she never expected that it would be the Colonel himself that would reveal it.

Riza had woken up one Monday morning to find that it was raining outside. She groaned in displeasure and reluctantly wriggled from beneath her heavy quilt. The military dorms were not at all suited for the cold weather, and she knew what awaited her when she touched her feet to the floor–cold. She could already tell it was going to be an awful morning.

After braving the cold floor, stumbling through her dark living room into the kitchen, and opening her coffee can, her assumptions were confirmed. She was out of coffee. She stared for a moment at the empty can, considered trying to make a pot of coffee with the few bits that remained in the bottom of the can, and quickly decided against it when she recalled the LAST time she had tried to make a pot of coffee with less coffee than the recipe called for (it had reminded her a bit of watered-down vomit).

And so, with that, she decided that she would purchase a mocha during Black Hayate's morning walk, and that would be the end of it. But of course, life can never be so simple.

Normally, she wouldn't have gone out in such a state. Her golden hair was in disarray, halfheartedly pulled into a sloppy bun at the nape of her neck. Her blue jeans and t-shirt were wrinkled, for they had been abandoned on her floor the night before when Riza found that she was too tired to hang them anywhere properly. There was no make-up on her face, which made the tired dark circles around her eyes even more prominent. But with her was her ever-ready pistol, ready to silence the first person who commented on her awkward appearance.

The clerk at the counter of the coffee shop gave her a funny look, but he quickly withdrew it when Hawkeye nonchalantly pointed to the growling dog resting on the floor beside her and the gun nestled snugly in her pocket. Retrieving her prize–a steaming cup of mocha–she prepared to leave the store, pleased with herself for getting her much-needed coffee without a hitch. She had spoken too soon...

"Lieutenant!" she heard the casual cry from behind, immediately recognized the voice, and stiffened. Something in her mind clicked, causing Riza to immediately switch from casual home mode, to efficient office mode, and she turned on her heels, instinctively saluting her superior at the same time–which she immediately realized, was a mistake. She had saluted with the hand holding her scalding hot mocha, splashing it all over her face in the process. Desperately attempting to rid her face of the burning liquid, she took a step forward to find something–ANYTHING to wipe her face clean on only to find that when she had turned, Black Hayate's leash had wrapped around her legs. She stumbled forward, expecting to come face to face with the black and white linoleum floor, completing the most humiliating moment of her life.

But the impact never came. Quite on the contrary, she found herself being supported by a pair of strong and steady arms. She looked up, ready to graciously thank her savior, but upon seeing his face, she stopped cold. Distorted though he was by the mist of mocha still clouding her vision, there was no mistaking Colonel Roy Mustang. She let her mouth hang open stupidly for a moment before realizing that he was speaking to her.

"Lieutenant...Hawkeye...Riza, are you alright? Talk to me!"

"Um...er...yeah, I guess," smooth Riza, smooth. She was glad for the layer of coffee coating her skin at the moment, for it was most effective in concealing the prominent red tint to her cheeks. She began mumbling incoherently, Mustang looking down at her with a quizzical expression gracing his handsome features.

"Riza?" The banter stopped. She looked up at him again, chocolate eyes brimming with tears. Mustang was suddenly dumbfounded; he was cradling a crying, coffee sodden Riza Hawkeye in his arms. Would wonders never cease? She buried her face in his uniform, effectively staining it with the coffee that had been obscuring her features. He winced–that would take weeks to get out. But no matter, there were more important thing to attend to than a stained uniform. He carefully reached over to his table, ignoring the odd stares he got from the staff and other customers in the shop, and plucked a napkin from one of the napkin holders. He then used his index finger to gently lift Riza's gaze from the floor to meet his intense onyx stare, and began gently wiping away the coffee remnants that hadn't already dripped onto her t-shirt...or his uniform. He cooed softly as he worked, effectively silencing her ramblings of "I just wanted my coffee..." When he had cleaned a majority of the coffee off her face, along with some falling tears, he gently guided her to the seat opposite the one he had been sitting in, and motioned for her to sit down. She complied without a complaint, and he left assuring her in little more than a comforting whisper that he would be back soon.

Riza simply sat in the uncomfortable café chair as Black Hayate attempted to lick some of the stray mocha off of her hands. Her serious, somewhat dangerous expression, previously ever-present on her face, was gone and left nothing but a vacant, befuddled expression in its wake. She would never live this down...he would tell all of the men in the office, she was sure of it. Then she would be tormented, and her previous reputation of being a no nonsense enforcer of the law would be gone. Edward would be _unbearable... _She would have to transfer to the Northern Headquarters and–

Suddenly, Hawkeye was jolted out of her reverie as an enormous cup of steaming coffee was placed in front of her. She looked across the table to find Roy Mustang staring at her with those beautiful black eyes...so deep, full of life, full of pain from years past, but lit by a spark that refused to be extinguished.

"Thank you," was all she could choke out. And then he smiled, and from that point on, she knew that the intoxicating effects of the coffee and _that smile _would be impossible to resist when forced upon her at the same time. So she gave in.

"Don't worry, it's an equivalent exchange. I surprise you, cause you to spill yours, I buy you a new one," he flashed another charming smirk.

"But this one is much more expensive than the one that I bought..." she took a sip of the bitter drink and could already feel the coffee-induced euphoria sweeping over her. "And besides, you shouldn't have to pay for my clumsiness."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows in false surprise. She nodded. "Then maybe we need something to balance the scales." She smiled a shy smile before leaning in for what she knew to be inevitable.

_ "Coffee..." _she thought, as his lip brushed against hers in a tender first kiss, _"he smells like coffee." _And she closed her eyes, letting the bittersweet aroma of her favorite beverage and the pleasant sensation of his lips on hers carry her away.


End file.
